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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29619696">Rubber Taste</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/motherconfessor/pseuds/motherconfessor'>motherconfessor</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Flight Attendant (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Finger Sucking, Vaginal Fingering, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, minor medical kink</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:42:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,118</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29619696</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/motherconfessor/pseuds/motherconfessor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After getting pistol-whipped, Miranda is checking to see if any permanent damage occurred. Unfortunately, the use of disposable gloves has a stronger effect than you'd like.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miranda Croft/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>88</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Rubber Taste</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Minor violence in the beginning, but it's implied that you're <i>also</i> a gun for hire with Miranada.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The pistol-whip hit you hard enough to throw you into the wall. Your head bounced against the wall hard enough to stun you, enough that your ears rang, and the world darkened for a second.</p><p>There was a gunshot, and you wobbled, panic shooting down your spine as you turned, only to see Miranda looking at you, brow cocked. She mouthed something, and you winced, pulling back. The guy’s pistol-whip had been hard, but he was dead now. So that was something. You wanted to kick his head, but you’d probably fall over if you tried something like that.</p><p>Miranda moved, standing before you and repeated something.</p><p>You blinked, shaking your head. “I’m fine,” you told her and then winced as the pain shot through your jaw.</p><p>“Let me take a look––“</p><p>“Not here,” you said, trying not to move your mouth that much. You think you bit your tongue. You could taste blood. Or maybe you’d lost a tooth; you were afraid to use your tongue to check.</p><p>“Alright, come on, then. I can hardly carry you,” Miranda said, though you felt her hand curl around your waist anyway, leading you back to the car. It was parked on a busy road, but it was night, dark and out of the streetlight as she pushed you into the backseat, sliding in behind you.</p><p>The door clicked shut, the interior light dimming off until she clicked it on again, pulling out the first aid kid from underneath the seat of the car.</p><p>“I’m fine,” you told her and then grimaced again.</p><p>“You took a nasty blow to the head,” she said, her voice dry as she picked up the disposable latex gloves. You swallowed as you looked at them, feeling a heat rush through you. “You afraid of needles or something?”</p><p>“Or something,” you said, watching as she snapped one on. You shivered, looking up at her. “Let’s just make this quick.”</p><p>Miranda rolled her eyes, thankfully not picking up on it as she shifted closer. She checked your head first, pressing against where you’d been hit. But you assured her there was only a little bit of pain. Likely a bump will form, probably some bruising but definitely not a fracture. Your mouth was where most of the pain was anyway.</p><p>“Open up, then and let me take a look.”</p><p>You opened up your mouth and watched as Miranda peered into the orifice, her brow pressing as she tried to look before shaking her head. “Stop squirming,” she said, and then the latex hand grabbed at your jaw, holding you still.</p><p>Your face was tender, and you felt yourself inhale sharply––but the worst was hardly over as she then, with her other hand, reached inside of your mouth and with two fingers, pressed down on your tongue to hold it still.</p><p>You swallowed, feeling the heat pool in your belly. Your body shifting against the seat of the car as you squeezed your eyes shut and tried not to focus. “I can’t see anything. What did I say! For fuck’s sake, stop squirming. You’re acting like––“ and she paused, the length of her fingers pressing firmly against your tongue.</p><p>You opened your eyes, looking at hers as the silence held.</p><p>Her mouth quirked. “Are you…?” She asked, beginning the question.</p><p>You swallowed again and felt her tongue slide down further. Your hips shifted uncomfortably, and the smile widened. “You <em>are</em>,” she said.</p><p>“Wha––?” You tried to say, but her fingers were in your mouth, and panic was beating your heart.</p><p>“You’re <em>getting off </em>on this, aren’t you?”</p><p>“<em>No</em>!” you said, still with the fingers in your mouth, swallowing again. But the word was muffled.</p><p>Miranda’s face shifted, disbelieving, and then her fingers were stroking intentionally, down your tongue, to the back of your throat and holding it there. And then you felt as a third finger pressed against your tongue.</p><p>You <em>whimpered</em> at it, blinking as you felt your eyelashes dampen, your body squirming at the growing throb between your legs. The leather of the backseat groaned as you clung to it and felt as her fingers drew out and then slid down your tongue again, as she watched you with intense focus.</p><p>“If you don’t like it, then I’ll stop,” She said, and fingers began to withdraw slowly as she stared into your eyes.</p><p>It was a game of chicken, and you knew Miranda would stop. You wouldn’t get anything out of this. But the alternative was her knowing how much you’d thought about this exact scenario.</p><p>“<em>Don’t</em>,” you said, muffled with the fingers in your mouth. She grinned.</p><p>“Missed that. Best if you show me what you want.” You paused and felt her fingers withdraw a bit more. Her smile widening. “Go on, show me how badly you want it.”</p><p>You closed your mouth around her fingers and began to suck and watched as she grinned, her teeth revealed in what seemed more like a threat than comfort. “Good girl.” She said, shifting her other hand to slide around the back of your neck and hold you steady. “Undo your pants then.”</p><p>You obeyed. Reaching and unbuttoning the top button before unzipping the fly.</p><p>“Pull them down.”</p><p>You shifted, still sucking on her fingers, staring back at her as your heart thudded in your chest. And with your hands, you tugged down your pants to your knees. You were hers, utterly and completely, and maybe later, you’d feel conflicted about how eagerly you obeyed; right now, her eyes held yours almost hypnotically.</p><p>“Knickers, too,” she said lowly.</p><p>Your hands shook, a flicker growing in your belly as you shifted the cotton underwear down. You could feel how wet you were, and as her eyes flicked down, her brow cocking with amusement, you knew that even in the dim light of the car, she could see how badly you were affected by this. How <em>needy</em> you were for it. For her.</p><p>She was still stroking over your tongue as the hand around the back of your neck let go and slid between your thighs.</p><p>“Quite a situation we have here,” she said, arching her brow. “I have to admit that I’m disappointed that you would try and lie to me. After everything we’ve been through?” She tilted her head, condescension coating her words.</p><p>It tugged at you, and you whimpered again at the low growl in her voice as she stroked over your cunt.“If you were honest with me, I might be more inclined to finish this how you want. But now,” she paused, tsking––and then like a viper, she struck, shifting until your back was pressed against the spine of the seat, her fingers deep in your mouth, hand pressed against your cunt as she straddled you. “Spread your legs wide for me, sweetheart.”</p><p>You obeyed, moaning as she continued to stroke you. You spread your legs wide in the seat, against hers, and then wider still. Her other hand remained pressed between you as she rocked forward. You paused, staring at her as both of her hands went still.</p><p>You could feel the latex, and then her face was shifting with frustration, displeased as she spat, “did I say you could stop?”</p><p>No, she didn’t. You sucked again, eagerly on her fingers as if it was cock, sliding back and forth and watched as her expression shifted to something neutral.</p><p>She wasn’t pleased with you, but the anger had simmered.</p><p>Then, the fingers between your thighs slid over your cunt, before you felt her press against the opening. She smiled, head tilting as she seemed to study you, and then she shoved inside of you, driving deep up as far as she could go before sliding back. And then again, harder as her palm pressed against your throbbing clit.</p><p>She parted her mouth, giving a patronising coo as she watched your eyes flutter as you were fucked closer and closer to orgasm with her gloves.</p><p>“You like that?” She asked, and you nodded, still sucking down on the latex-gloved fingers, feeling her fingers stroke deep and harder inside of you, stretching you out. It was <em>almost</em> painful, but with the thud in your clit and the flickering in your low belly, the feeling of being stretched seemed to beautiful melt with every other sensation. “Perhaps we should play doctor when we get back to the hotel. I’ll bend you over my lap and check your temperature. Or maybe we could go and find a speculum, and I’ll give you a proper check-up.”</p><p>It was degrading. She was trying to let you know how filthy the idea was as she fucked you without saying it. But you knew that tone, the patronising way her eyebrows lifted as she waited for a response, and yet…</p><p>You couldn’t deny that if she wanted to play doctor, you’d let her. You’d put your legs up in stirrups for her to tell you how badly you wanted her.</p><p>You clenched around her fingers, eyes squeezing shut as you felt the impending orgasm. And then her fingers slid out of your mouth, wrapping around your throat to pin you against the seat as she continued to fuck you.</p><p>The hand was slick with your spit as it grasped around your neck. You took a breath and felt it squeeze tighter in a warning. Not enough to cut off your oxygen supply, but enough to feel the danger of the situation.</p><p>“I think that’s enough, don’t you?” She said as she paused…before drawing out of your cunt.</p><p>“No, no, please. Miranda, just––“</p><p>“Just…?” She questioned.</p><p>You took a breath, feeling it strain around her flexing fingers. “Let me come. Please?” You held her eyes, letting the naked vulnerability of the situation pour from you. She paused, and for a moment, you felt her fingers inch in deeper again before she smirked.</p><p>“I don’t think so,” she said, and then her fingers were out of you, and you could feel the wetness sticking against your thighs, slick against the seat.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>,” you whined</p><p>Miranda moved, shifted back into the seat beside you as she removed the gloves and tossed them aside. A pang felt in your heart at the loss of the sensation as you drew in a breath before looking shyly next to you at Miranda. She was punishing you for trying to deny your desire, and right now, you felt that loss <em>burn</em> through you.</p><p>You didn’t move from where you were, drawing in a breath, settling the feeling of the aching loss between your thighs. The throb in your clit seemed to pulse through you as you watched as Miranda seemed to quirk an eyebrow as if questioning what your problem was.</p><p>As if she didn’t know.</p><p>Fuck her.</p><p>“I couldn’t see any damage,” she said. “I think you’ll be fine.”</p><p>“Good,” you said. And then swallowed, still tasting the faint latex in your mouth. You shifted, grabbing at your pants and tugging them back up. Your underwear sat uncomfortably as you zipped up the fly, doing the top button up, but the ache was drawing away.</p><p>“Is that it?” Miranda asked.</p><p>That left you dumbfounded. “What do you mean? <em>You’re </em>the one who stopped.”</p><p>“You could ask,” she pointed out. “Or you could sulk. Doesn’t bother me either way.”</p><p>You stared at her. Watching her face remain neutral, her eyes steadily holding yours before she exhaled, turning her head away and began swearing under her breath as she moved to get out of the car. You grabbed at her wrist, leaning over her to stop her from getting out of the car as you paused, watching her expression shift.</p><p>There was something about how she moved then, the denial and fight growing on her face that made you realise what was wrong. It wasn’t about the gloves or the denial. It was about <em>you</em>.</p><p>“You were worried about me,” you said.</p><p>She scoffed, turning her eyes away but didn’t bother to deny it.</p><p>“You <em>like </em>me.”</p><p>“Now, I wouldn’t go <em>that</em> far,” she said, looking back at you with a scowl.</p><p>You grinned at her, watching as in the dim lights, her eyes seemed to avoid looking at you as if she was unable to hold its intensity––and yet, never before had she had such a problem.</p><p>Leaning forward, you pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. She was steady, unresponsive at first, and then slowly, her mouth kissed back, a hand lifting to cup against your cheek.</p><p>“I like you, too,” you told her. “And I’d like it if you fucked me again with gloves on.”</p><p>“Yeah, you would, you depraved nut.”</p>
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